ridicule, even at her expense. My mother wondered how Lord Mowbray could
tease his sister in such a manner; and as for Harrington, she really
thought he had known that the first law of good-breeding is never to say or
do any thing that can hurt another person's feelings.

"Never _intentionally_ to hurt another's feelings, ma'am," said I; "I hope
you will allow me to plead the innocence of my intentions."

"Oh, yes! there was no malicious _intent_: Not guilty--Not guilty!" cried
Mowbray. "Anne, you acquit him there, don't you, Anne?"

Anne sobbed, but spoke not.

"It is little consolation, and no compensation, to the person who is hurt,"
said my mother, "that the offender pleads he did not mean to say or do any
thing rude: a rude thing is a rude thing--the intention is nothing--all we
are to judge of is the fact."

"Well, but after all, in fact," said Mowbray, "there was nothing to make
any body seriously angry."

"Of that every body's own feelings must be the best judge," said my mother,
"the best and the sole judge."

"Thank Heaven! that is not the law of libel _yet_, not the law of the land
_yet_," said Mowbray; "no knowing what we may come to. Would it not be
hard, ma'am, to constitute the feelings of one person _always_ sole judge
of the intentions of another? though in cases like the present I submit.
Let it be a ruled case, that the sensibility of a lady shall be the measure
of a gentleman's guilt."